In the introduction, the author writes "this is a book about Zen and the art of pottery."
The anonymous cover-ware says it is "a celebration of pottery and a hands-on
guide to its methods."
This celebration goes on in a poetic vein about pots and
tradition within a community and Zen in the first four chapters.
Then the middle section of the book starts with a jarring switch
to the authors class notes for beginning pottery students.
However, this material and the following advanced lessons and
chapters on kilns and decoration contain a lot of practical
advice. For example, near the end of a discussion about making
large spheres (p. 77), the author notes:

"The bottom is carefully paddled
until a concave form occurs. This procedure seems to compact the
clay and, coupled with the inner dome effect, allows the bottom
to shrink without cracking."

I think the advice is sound, but see the Note at the end of
this review for what I believe to be a clearer explanation. The
final two chapters are mostly poetic again. They contain
observations on living with pottery and pictures of selected
pieces in Beittels personal collection.

Whats Zen Got To Do With It?

The author worked with a potter in Japan in the 1960s and was
attracted by the unifying influence of Zen Buddhism on
traditional Japanese arts. Zen, however, is a subject that is
extremely easy to misunderstand, as Christian Humpreys remarked
[2]. Furthermore, according to the Lankavatara Sutra, which was
favored by the founder of Zen [3]:

" it is like a potter who
manufactures various vessels out of a clay of one sort by his own
manual skill and labour combined with a rod, water and thread
"

I think this means that all Buddhism, including Zen, issues
from the same fundamental principle which, by means of a
teachers skill and labor, can be manifested in a variety of
ways. Beittels claim that his book is about Zen raises the
question whether he has really grasped the principle himself. It
is evidently a binary question, but it is hard to settle
conclusively for technical reasons. In this review, I will try to
form a tentative conclusion by examining selected passages of the
text in light of the established literature on the subject.

Body Mind?

In Chapter 4, Beittell expounds a concept of "Body-Mind," which he sees as healing
an artificial split that Western civilization is especially prone
to fall into. I have not encountered this term in Zen literature
that has been translated into English. Beittel actually
doesnt give any Zen references for it, but he claims
instead that Eastern civilization never assumed body and mind are
separated to begin with. The founder of the Zen sect, however,
seems to have held a different view [4] when he wrote:

"Their minds abide serenely in the
uncreated, while the body moves about in accordance with the laws
of causation."

Whatever this "uncreated" is, it seems to be
disjoint from the physical world, and its hard to imagine
how the separation could be any greater.

Inner or Subtle Self?

In his exposition of Body-Mind, Beittel also mentions various
Eastern disciplines in support of his thesis that enlightenment
is a unification of body and mind. One of them is archery and its
relation to Zen as described by Eugen Herrigel [5].
Herrigels teacher demanded that he "wait without purpose in the state of highest
tension" until "it shoots."
Beittel may be referring to this "it" that shoots when
he says:

"It as though there is an external
and an internal or subtle self. The trick seems to be to
have the outer self command the inner self to take over."

However, in the Diamond Sutra we find the passage [6]:

"If a Bodhisattva retains the
thought of an ego, a person, a being, or a soul, he is no more a
Boddhisattva."

I think this bodes ill for an internal self, however subtle.
Herrigels teacher also told him the goal is to become
"truly egoless."

Even Zen is Parochial?

Beittel challenges both Eastern and Western approaches in
several places. For example, on p. 9 he says:

" the West is high on
liberation but low on tradition. But we could as well say
of much traditional art in the East: Tradition only; no
expression. Both traditions seem to be lacking."

I guess Beittel means that artists do have an ego or soul that
is expressed in Western art but is suppressed in the East. He
expands this critique of both East and West beyond esthetics on
p. 37, where he concludes:

"The West overstresses being, the
East nothingness."

This could give the impression that Beittel has a vantage
point from which he can see shortcomings in both Eastern and
Western world views. It seems incredible to me, but Beittel
confirms this impression on p. 26, where he adds:

"So, as a Western practitioner
seeking to be East and West of the Great Tradition, I intuit that
even Zen is parochial."

The technical difficulty mentioned above for proving that
Beittel has fully grasped Zen is that, to demonstrate it, the
reviewer and the reader would also have to be enlightened.
However small the probability of that may be, I believe the
chances that Beittel is on firm ground even higher up have to be
that much smaller still.

Freudian Slips

If Beittel is not enlightened, he must be a normal (suffering)
human being. In fact, his text does provide some evidence of a
wavering mind. For example, on p. 26, he appears to be alluding
to Dogens idea [7] that practice and enlightenment are the
same and then goes on to say:

"One pots no differently after
enlightenment (if we are even permitted to know what and when
that is.)"

In this fascinating sentence, Beittel implies that he is
enlightened and then takes it back parenthetically, admitting
that he really doesnt know what he is talking about. On
page 31, Beittel relates that once, when an advanced pottery
class of his built a kiln,

"A genuine community spirit 
as pure as I have known  arose " in which
"There was no mention of grades, and there were no work
factions or leadership crises."

There evidently were grades, though. If the students seemed
oblivious to them, they may have been just playing along. On p.
109, we get a different perspective on Beittels attitude
towards a firing where he says:

"A natural hierarchy of command
arises, for, though aided by all, someone must assume the lead,
and take responsibility for a total vision of the event."

It appears that Beittels communistic fantasy applies
only to others and he reserves aristocratic privileges for
himself. In another passage (on p. 24), Beittel claims that in
the age of the Tao:

"The body-mind thought as one and
was integrated with belief and action. and one laughed or
became angry without vacillation or guilt."

In Buddhism, anger is one of the worldly passions that is
responsible for suffering [8]. Beittels clever attempt to
validate anger is therefore quite revealing.

References

Kenneth R. Beittell, Zen and the Art of Pottery,
Weatherhill, New York (1989).

I believe that the notorious S-shaped crack arises in a 3-step
process. The wall of the pot dries first. As it shrinks, the wall
compresses the bottom, which is still plastic. I suppose the
bottom thickens slightly to relieve the compressive stress, and
it seems unlikely that much compressive stress is locked into the
bottom from this step or from the paddling that was done while
the whole pot was damp. In the second phase, the bottom starts to
dry, and it goes into tension because its diameter is fixed by
the hardened wall. Finally, the bottom relieves the tension by
cracking. I believe that doming the bottom frees it to move up
and down to remain in contact with the wall at different states
of dryness with much less residual stress.